


Sunshine Academy

by Night_Witch_The_Third, Sir_Weston



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst and Humor, Boarding School, Cheerleaders, Eventual Romance, Gay Character, Girly Girls, Goths, Humor, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jealousy, Jocks, Lesbian Character, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Nerdiness, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Punk, Punk Rock, Reluctant Heroes, Secret Crush, Shy Girl, Shyness, Stalking, Stereotypes, Violence, bad boy, nerds, pedophile - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-07-29 19:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16270490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_Witch_The_Third/pseuds/Night_Witch_The_Third, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Weston/pseuds/Sir_Weston
Summary: When the Goth Kids are sent to a preppy, conformist boarding school, it's all they can do to not just kill themselves. Then the conformists who surround them try to tear them down or force them apart, and they find themselves in the middle of all the drama, whether they want to be or not. And things get worse when two goths start to have feelings for someone...The school seems to have a sinister secret as well, but will the goths even care enough to figure out what it is?Or:How the goth kids managed to disrupt the system of a boarding school by doing very little.





	1. Regretting Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a story my sister and I both secretly wanted to do, then decided to write it together. It’s about the goths being sent to boarding school. Where everyone is a preppy conformist or a stereotype. This is going to be chaotic. Also, it’s going to be in first person. Because.

Karen’s POV

I couldn’t believe my ears. This couldn’t possibly be happening! I stood in Henrietta’s house as she, Pete, Michael and Firkle were confronting their parents. I couldn’t pay attention to what anyone was really saying, because the moment they had said “boarding school” I knew that my life would come to a stop. 

It had been about six years since I first joined and befriended the goths. I had been afraid that they wouldn’t accept me, they had a reputation after all. But Michael, Firkle and Pete had pretty much welcomed me with open arms. And for some reason they didn’t care if I was completely goth or not. I just had to wear black and smoke a lot and they accepted me. I didn’t want to lose them. Not now.

“What do you mean you’re sending us to boarding school?” Henrietta snarled, snapping me out of it.

“We’ve all been talking and we thought it would be best,” her mother said. “We know the camp didn’t work out, but this place is legit! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Henrietta’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t do this to me again, you conformist bitch!” she hissed. The other parents gasped over-dramatically.

“Now Henrietta,” her father snapped. “That’s just the sort of thing we’ve been talking about. This boarding school specializes in kids like you. It’ll straighten you all out so we don’t have to.” My friends glared at him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Michael growled, rolling his eyes.

“That attitude of yours is exactly why we’re doing this,” Michael’s father told him. “This school will teach you proper behavior. It’ll be good for you. And you’ll all be there together.”

Except for me, I thought miserably. My parents weren’t here, telling me I had to go to some boarding school. I’m not even sure they knew that I had ever turned goth. What was I going to do without my friends? The only other friend I had was my brother. I was going to be all alone again! Well, I wasn’t going to stand for it.

“The school is called Sunshine Academy,” Firkle’s mother said cheerfully. We all groaned. It sounded nightmarish already. “It’s tuition free, so we don’t have to worry about a thing. They have a pool and lots of after school activities.”

“This can’t be happening,” Pete groaned. I, on the other hand, perked up. An idea was forming in my head. There was no way I was going to let them face this alone.

“The new term starts next week, which will give you plenty of time to pack,” Henrietta’s father said, ignoring the horrified looks on our faces.

“Not unless we just walk out of here and wander the streets until we get hit by a bus,” Henrietta growled under her breath. Her father glared at her.

“That’s enough, young lady,” he said. “We’ve all made up our minds. You’re going to this school and that’s final!”

“No, it’s not!” Michael growled. “You can’t make us go!"

“Oh yes, we can,” his mother replied in that weird, gravelly voice of hers. Michael narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t reply. “This school is going to whip you all into shape. Turn you into normal children!”

“Not that fucking bullshit again,” Michael growled.

“That’s what you said about that fucking camp and looked how that fucking turned out,” Henrietta snarled. I had no idea what they were talking about, but I didn’t say so and instead just nodded vigorously.

“Our minds are made up,” her dad repeated. “Now all better go start packing this instant!”

The five of us rose from our chairs and headed for Henrietta’s room, casting angry, mutinous glares over our shoulders at the adults. Henrietta made sure to slam the door as loudly as possible when we were all inside.

“I can’t believe our parents are making us go to a douchy boarding school,” Firkle growled, flopping onto Henrietta’s bed. I sat down next to him.

“Seriously, what gives them the right to do that?” I wondered.

“I’ll bet it was that asshole principal who put them up to this,” Pete sighed. “He probably found out that we weren’t going to class and then narked on us to our parents, saying we don’t ‘apply ourselves’ or some bullshit.”

“At least we’ll all be there together,” Michael pointed out. “And maybe if we just stay out of everyone’s way, our parents will let us come back.”

“Or we could break out,” Henrietta added, pulling out a cigarette. “I’m seriously considering just walking into traffic right now just to get it over with.”

A while later saw Michael, Pete and Firkle walking me home. The four of them always insisted on walking me home from whoever’s house we had been hanging out at. I told them it was no big deal, that I could get home on my own, but they went with me anyways, especially when it was dark outside. I wouldn’t admit it, but it was actually very sweet of them to worry about me like that.

My dad was on the couch when I had said good-bye to the others and entered my own house. He was passed out and drunk like he usually was. I could hear my mom in the kitchen with Kevin, though I had no idea where Kenny was. He was probably out with his friends. Or working. Kenny did have a job now, I reminded myself.

Taking a deep breath, I made my way into the kitchen.

“Oh, hey there, sugar,” my mom greeted. “I was getting worried about you. Did you have fun with your friends?” I let out a sigh.

“I guess,” I replied. She nodded and went back to what she was doing, which was putting more toaster waffles into the toaster. It seemed like so long ago now that the other goths and I had gotten back from the Village Inn only to find all of their parents waiting for us. I looked over at my mom. “Mom, I want to go to this boarding school,” I stated.

Mom dropped a waffle into the toaster and turned to me, clearly shocked. “Why on earth would you want that, pumpkin pie?” she wondered. “Besides, boarding schools are for rich kids. There’s no way we could ever afford it.”

“The school is a government paid facility,” I told her. “It’s paid for by tax dollars. The tuition is free. It’s called Sunshine Academy! Please mom, I really want to go!”

Mom cocked her head, considering me. “I’ve heard of that place,” she muttered, mostly to herself. “But why do you want to go there all of a sudden? Don’t you like the school here?”

“Not really,” I said earnestly. “None of the other kids talk to me because I’m so poor. I only have four real friends besides my brother. I just really need to do this! Please, mom? I’ll be fine! I promise!”

She thought for a long moment, looking clearly conflicted. After what seemed forever, she gave a long sigh. “Well, if you really want to go to this fancy pants school, I’ll at least look into it for you.”

Despite the fact that goths weren’t allowed to grin, a huge smile broke over my face and I ran over and hugged my mom tightly. “Thanks mom!” I said. “This means so much to me!”

The next week was kind of hectic. My mom, once she found out that the school was indeed free to go to, immediately signed me up for the fall semester, and I spent the last week of my summer vacation packing what little I had. I had called my friends and made up a story about how their parents had also talked my parents into forcing me to go with them.

The night before I was supposed to leave, I got a knock on my bedroom door and I turned to see Kenny standing there.

“Hey kiddo,” he greeted with a warm smile. “Mind if I talk to you?”

“Sure, Ken,” I replied. He came over and sat down on the bed next to me.

“So, you’re going to boarding school, huh?” he said after a moment.

“That’s right,” I answered. “Sunshine Academy.” He let out a sigh.

“Be careful, ok sis?” he told me. “I’ve heard weird rumors about that place. Just stay close to Henrietta and the others, ok? I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’ll be fine, big brother,” I told him, smiling reassuringly. “I’ll call you every day and I’ll have my friends with me. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Sorry, worrying is what big brothers do,” Kenny stated. He leaned over and wrapped me in a hug. “I’m gonna miss you, squirt.”

“I’ll miss you too, big bro,” I replied, tears coming to my eyes. “But I’ll be back for breaks and stuff. And like I said, I’ll call you every day.”

“You better,” he replied. “Because if you miss a single day, I’m coming to that school and dragging you home myself.” I grinned at him.

“You’re the best big brother ever,” I told him. He grinned back.

“I know,” he stated. “Just don’t tell Kyle that.”

 

The next day all of our parents pretty much had to drag my friends into their cars. They had organized some sort of plan where we would all leave and arrive together so none of us could try to escape. I had to hitch a ride with Firkle and his parents because my parents didn’t own a car anymore. He looked rather nervous as we drove past country sides and towards a quiet little village where the school was. I couldn’t say I blamed him. I didn’t want to go to this school any more than he did.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” I grumbled. “What could possibly be worse than a boarding school?”

“Having that boarding school be called Sunshine Academy,” Firkle muttered back.

“True.”

“So, how horrible do you think this place is going to be?” Firkle asked after a long moment of silence. I thought for a moment.

“Well, with a name like Sunshine Academy, it’s either going to live up to its name, or be the exact opposite,” I replied. “I don’t really like either of those scenarios.”

“I just hope no preppy conformist bitches try to talk to us,” Firkle sighed. “I can’t stand the thought of becoming one of them.” He shuddered at the thought. I put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, the five of us can look out for each other,” I told him. “If it looks like one of us is turning into a conformist, the others can just smack him. Or her.”

Firkle looked at me with wide eyes but didn’t say anything more and after a moment quickly turned his head away. Weird. I opened my mouth to ask him something, but it was at that moment that the car came to a screeching halt and we were both flung forwards.

“We’re here!” Firkle’s mother said cheerfully. Firkle and I exchanged glances before reluctantly getting out of the car. The others were already there waiting for us, and my friends were staring at the gates in horror. When I looked up at the school, I knew exactly why they were horrified. It was the brightest, cheeriest, most conformist looking set of buildings I had ever seen in my entire life. And there was a middle-aged man wearing all yellow with a terrifying smile on his face, standing at the entrance of the gate, welcoming people in.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I swear I could hear the theme from Psycho playing.


	2. Regretting Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The goths arrive at the school and they hate it already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sir Weston here! Glad to see this story is already getting some love, and I hope to do it justice with my chapter. This one is in Michael’s view point. And we’re gonna get to meet the dean and a whole bunch of new and annoying characters. Yay!

Michael’s POV

 

I was horrified by the man standing before us. He was the very definition of the anti-goth. I opened my mouth to voice my displeasure, but Henrietta beat me to it.

“Nope,” she said in a dead pan voice. I watched with amazement as she turned and just started walking away from the school.

“Henrietta!” her mom called, “Get back here!” Her father quickly went after my friend, grabbing her around the middle, hoisting her off her feet and carrying her back to the group. Henrietta wore a grouchy look on her face the whole time.

“Come on, gang!” Firkle’s overly-enthusiastic father piped up, “Let’s go check in!”

All the parents led the way towards the gates and the scary man, pulling our luggage while my friends and I trudged along behind them. I let out a heavy sigh.

“This sucks,” I muttered. My friends all mumbled their agreement.

“Our parents couldn’t have picked a worse place to get rid of us,” Pete grumbled, “It’s like the sun dropped to Earth and turned into a building. And we’re walking right towards it. That’s how yellow it is.”

“It could be worse,” Karen pointed out, “That guy could have an annoying voice.”

That’s when the man in the yellow suit came over to greet us. “Well howdy, folks!” he exclaimed in the most over the top, high pitched, obnoxious voice, “I am Ed H. Poi or Dean Poi! Let me be the first to welcome y’all to Sunshine Academy!”

Beside me, Pete silently buried his face in his hands.

“Now, come with me, parents and students! So, that I may lead the way to auditorium! Whee!” Dean Poi did this stupid twirly thing on his heels and started dancing towards the building. What a freak.

As we followed our parents, I could feel Firkle and Pete pressing against me. Over the years, we had changed a little, but not much. Firkle was taller, of course, and his hair was much longer now. Much like Pete, he had it so part of it covered half of his face, but it was the opposite side from Pete’s. Firkle and I had somehow become each other’s confidents to which we entrusted our secrets, so I was the only one of our friends he told about his crush on Karen. I thought it was rather adorable and when I told him so, he kicked me in the shin, the little shit.

Pete’s style really hasn’t changed at all. He’s updated his wardrobe and gotten taller, but that’s basically it. Well, I guess his hair is longer. I can’t remember the last time any of us went to get out hair cut. Pete still wears the bolero tie, though which goes nicely with pretty much all of his outfits. I’m proud to say I’m still taller than him, though.

Henrietta is the one that’s changed the most. Physically, I mean. She’s gotten a lot thinner, down to a suitable weight, one that’s maybe a bit closer to pushing it, but definitely not a skinny conformist whore. And I have to say, she’s beautiful. When she reached her weight goal a whole bunch of guys started hitting on her and asking her out. She bitched slapped them all. Her hair is a little longer, but still not much past shoulder length. She’s about the same height as Pete. She of course still wears the goth make up all the time. Why wouldn’t she? And she never wears anything but black dresses. I would ask her why dresses, but I don’t want to get bitch slapped. But she really is beautiful. Not that she wasn’t before. I’ve thought about maybe asking her for a kiss or something. A friendly kiss! Nothing romantic or anything like that!

Karen has managed to clean herself up over the years she’s been with us. Her family’s plumbing isn’t so good, so we let her use the showers at our houses (we really don’t mind) so she’s managed to get the years of dirt and grime off her face. She’s probably the only one of the five of us who actually changes her hairstyle constantly. We’ve also bought her more proper goth clothes so she can fit in with us and look less like a loser vampire.

And myself? Well, nothing about me had changed in the slightest. I was still taller than all of my friends (yes!) and I had pretty much kept my wardrobe the same, only updating it to a larger size as I grew older. Again, my hair grew longer, but with how curly it is no one could really tell. The cane that I had when I was a child I now needed for real as I had been shot in the leg during one of the numerous school shootings when I was eleven and I occasionally walked with a limp. Random things seemed to trigger my limp, and it would cause me so much pain that I would be walking with a limp the rest of the day.

I felt my limp starting to flare up again as we walked towards the school and Pete quickly leaned against me to support me. I silently thanked him as I had put my cane in one of my suitcases. What a good kid.

We were led into a large auditorium where hundreds of people were already sitting. We sat in the back of the of the room with our parents. I sat in the middle of my friends, with Pete and Henrietta on one side of me and Firkle and Karen on the other side. I cringed slightly as I sat down and Henrietta gave me a worried look.

“Is your leg giving you pain again?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I muttered, “It tends to do that around a lot of conformists. Don’t worry, though. It should settle down in a little bit.” Meanwhile I could just focus on wishing I were dead.

There was suddenly a lot of clapping and the obnoxiously dressed dean came out on stage. “Students! Faculty! Parents! Welcome!” he began.

And that is literally all of his speech that I heard before I tuned him out. So did all of my friends, by the look of it. About five minutes in Henrietta fell asleep, leaning heavily on Pete’s shoulder. Firkle was playing with his hair with a bored expression on his face. Karen was making various sounds with her mouth trying to entertain herself. Pete looked dead. And I was kicking the back of the seat in front of me. A big squarish guy who was sitting in front of me turned around and glared at me, but I really didn’t fucking care.

By the half hour mark I was starting to fall asleep myself, also leaning on Pete. At some point I must’ve actually fallen asleep, because suddenly I felt Pete nudging me awake. And my leg hurt like a mother-fucker. Everyone was clapping and I guess a bunch of teachers and faculty had been introduced because there were a bunch of new people up on stage. Too bad I slept through all of that.

“Ugh, what’d I miss?” Firkle mumbled, apparently also just having woken up.

“I have no fucking clue,” I muttered. I turned and nudged Pete in the side. “What we miss?” He looked at me.

“Um, those are teachers and other important people,” he replied vaguely. I gave him an annoyed look. Thanks Pete.

After the stupid assembly we were finally allowed to get our rooms assigned to us. We had to line up in a stupid ass line so some stupid ass adult could slowly look up which room we would be staying in. Our parents kept chatting with other parents in line, acting as if they hadn’t totally betrayed us by sending us here.

When we finally got our room assignments I was glad to learn that I would be sharing a room with Pete and Firkle and that Henrietta and Karen had the room literally right across the hall from us. So at least we wouldn’t be separated. We made our parents carry our luggage since they were the ones who forced us to be here in the first place. The five of us were quiet as we walked to our rooms.

We were on the third floor of the student dorm. Instead of having separate girl’s and boy’s dorms, or even splitting the building in half, boys on one side, girls on the other, they simply split the hallway in half for some reason. I don’t know if they were trying to be progressive or something like that, but with a bunch of preteen students in the midst of going through puberty I doubt this was a very smart idea. I just hoped the walls were thick.

After our parents slowly dragged our stuff up the stairs (there were no elevators) we finally found our rooms which were thankfully labeled with our names. Firkle growled when he saw that they put his real name, Georgie, instead of Firkle.

“Shit,” I muttered when I saw there was a fourth name on the door, “I was sort of hoping we would get the room all to ourselves.”

“At least you guys only get one roommate,” Henrietta pointed out, “Karen and I have two.” She pointed at her door and I took a look at it. Mimi and Christina. Sounded like the biggest conformists ever.

None of us could say anything more before our parents came up to us, dragging our stuff and panting. Yeah, we kind of ditched them down the hallway. What? They were taking too long. We watched with disinterest as they finally reached us.

“You know,” Mr. Biggle said, panting slightly, “One of you kids couldda helped us.”

“No, we couldn’t,” Henrietta replied bitterly.

The parents set our luggage down then turned to us, spreading their arms, as if expecting a hug from us. They were definitely not getting one. I don’t know why they expected one. When it became apparent we weren’t going to hug them, all of our parents dropped their arms.

“Well,” my dad said a little awkwardly, “I guess we’ll see you kids during break.”

“If we haven’t died yet,” I hissed at him. I wasn’t going to let him forget that we really didn’t want to be here and that they were forcing us to stay.

Our parents finally left us without many more words. What did we have to say to them anyway? They sucked for sending us here against our will. The five of us stood outside in the empty hallway for a minute, reflecting on how the hell our lives brought us here.

“All right, we need to make a pact right now,” I decided, “That we’re going to stick together and not let this school get to us. No matter what happens, we watch out for each other, and we don’t let any of these conformists break us down. All right?”

My friends all goth smiled at me. Pete reached out and grabbed my hand. “I’m with you, Michael,” he said. Henrietta, Firkle, and Karen also grabbed my hand as well, and with that the pact was made.

We broke away and went to our rooms. As soon as I opened the door to our room, Pete, Firkle, and I cringed and yelled and covered our eyes at the bright, cheery, sunlight filled atrocity that assaulted our senses. Much like the rest of the school, the room was a bright yellow with happy rainbow and cloud decorations insultingly hung up all over the walls. There were four beds lined up along one wall and a wardrobe against another. Right across from the beds was a large window with the curtains drawn back letting in the offending sun. Two large desks were set up against the third wall.

“Gah! Quick! Someone close the fucking curtains!” Firkle moaned, still covering his eyes. I quickly ran over to the window and loosened the curtains, allowing them to fall and shroud the room in darkness. We all let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s much better,” Pete sighed. He picked up his suitcase and placed it on the bed closest to the door. I went back into the hall to grab my own bags and claimed the bed next to his while Firkle got the one next to mine.

“I wonder who our roommate is supposed to be?” I said as I opened up one of my bags to look for my cane. Pete straightened himself and looked at the name on the door.

“According to our door his name is Seymour,” he told us, “I wonder where he is? We all got out of the assembly at the same time.”

Before I could answer, there was a loud shout from Firkle. We turned to see that he had opened the wardrobe to put some of his clothes away and a tied up body had fallen out. Pete and I quickly rushed over to him.

Luckily the body was still alive. It was a very skinny boy who was bound and gagged, wiggling and trying to get free. The three of us helped him to his feet and while Pete and I undid his gag, Firkle pulled out his switchblade and used it cut the ropes binding his arms and legs.

Now that I got a good look at him, I could tell that this guy was the token nerd. He had large buck teeth and wore thick glasses. His face was littered with acne of all sizes and his brown hair was slicked back slightly as if that was his only desperate attempt to be cool. He was wearing suspenders to keep his pants up which I could tell were too big for him and a big polka dotted bow tie.

But his voice is what tied it all together.

“Hey, thanks for letting me out of the closet!” he said, his voice sounding like a cross between SpongeBob Squarepants and an out-of-tune trumpet, “The quarter back, Bruce stuffed me in there. Along with the rest of the football team. Yeah, they don’t like me. My name’s Seymour, by the way! I heard you guys talking! You must be my new roommates, Pete, Michael, and Georgie!” Did I mention he also spoke rather fast?

Firkle hissed beside me. “My name is Firkle,” he growled.

Seymour seemed to ignore him. “Hey, are you guys goths?” he asked rapidly, “I mean, you must be. You’re dressed in all black. This is my fifth semester here and we’ve never had goths here before. I don’t know why. Wow, my first friends are goths! Neat-o!”

“We’re not your friends,” I pointed out calmly.

I could only hope that Henrietta and Karen’s roommates weren’t as annoying as Seymour was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t know how else to end the chapter, so this is what you’re getting. Next time Nightwitch will take over with the girls. So, look forward to that. And remember to leave a comment. They’re our life’s blood!


	3. Hating This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henrietta and Karen meet their new roommates, then are forced to buy school uniforms with the guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Night Witch here! Like my sister said, this chapter we’ll be switching over to Henrietta’s view point and meeting hers and Karen’s roommates. They’re going to be just as bad as Seymour! Yay! Thanks for all the love you’ve been sending us!

Henrietta’s POV

I heard the boys hiss and groan as they stepped into their room, and a second later it was mirrored by Karen and me. If it were any more bright and yellow in here, I would become blind. Karen stumbled forward and quickly closed the curtains so we could actually look around without hurting our eyes.

“Looks like we’re the first ones here,” I noted, seeing the totally empty room.

“This room sucks,” Karen stated, looking around with an annoyed expression on her face. “If it were any brighter in here, you’d be able to see it from space.”

“I know, right?” I sighed. “I’m going to see if there’s a place selling black paint so we can redecorate this place as soon as possible.”

“Will they let us do that?” Karen wondered, turning towards me. I gave her a look.

“Do we care?” I replied.

“Oh, right,” she said before thinking for a moment. “Maybe if we get caught they’ll kick us out and we can get out of here faster.” I smirked at her.

“See, now you’re thinking like a trouble maker,” I told her proudly.

We set to work unpacking our stuff. Karen only had one bag with all of her stuff in it, while the rest of us had at least two. So, she basically finished unpacking long before I did. Besides her clothes, the only thing Karen had brought with her was a doll her brother had bought for her around six years ago. It wasn’t even sort of goth for her to keep it, but we didn’t judge her for it. It must be a family thing or something.

I was almost finished unpacking all of my stuff while arguing with Karen over who got the bed in the corner, when a sudden shriek from the doorway distracted us. Flinching, we turned to see a skinny girl with tan skin, pale blue eyes and long, dirty blonde hair standing at the doorway with at least four suitcases and a huge, excited grin on her face. Her perfectly straight hair was in long pigtails, and everything she was wearing, from her tank top, to her skirt, to her leggings and shoes, was pink.

“OMG!” she squeaked in an excited voice, making us both flinch again. “You must be my new roommates! Look how cute you are! I’m so excited to meet you! My name is Mimi, by the way! What’s yours?”

She spoke rather fast and was bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly. I tried not to groan. Of course, our new roommate would be a preppy conformist. And the worst kind at that. Karen looked equally as disgusted by her as I was.

“I’m Henrietta and this is Karen,” I told her, not wanting her to know our names, but knowing she was going to figure them out eventually. She didn’t look bothered my tone of voice, or the looks on our faces.

“Oh my gosh! You two are goths, aren’t you?” she gasped excitedly. “Or emos! I can’t really tell the diff! But your outfits are so cute on you!”

I growled angrily at her. “We’re goths,” I snapped. “If you call us emo again, I will hurt you.” I raised a fist to her face to drive in my point. She raised her hands defensively, still smiling that annoying, preppy smile.

“Ok!” she replied, unfazed by my hostility. “Oh, I just know all three of us are just going to be the best of friends! We’ll have so much fun together, I just know it!”

“I doubt it,” Karen grumbled, rolling her eyes.

I finished unpacking, letting Karen take the corner bed, and sat down to watch with disinterest as our new roommate started stuffing her clothes into a drawer and chattering excitedly. I was trying not to puke just being around this girl, there was no way I would ever hang out with her willingly.

As she was freaking out, going back and forth over which of the last two beds she wanted, I noticed movement at the door and turned my head in time to see a second girl walk into our room. If I had to describe her in one sentence, it would be the bad girl stereotype. She had short hair dyed green, swept to one side of her shaved head, and piercings all along her eyebrows and ears. She wore heavy make-up, tight, leather clothing that revealed too much skin, and high heeled boots. Fishnet stockings covered her legs, and both of her arms were covered in tattoos. She had a look on her face that was a cross between bored and annoyed.

“Great,” she snarled sarcastically. “Could this room get any more girly? It feels like I’m walking into the sun!” Mimi turned around and quickly ran over to her, holding out a hand.

“Hi!” she greeted. “I’m Mimi! You must be Christina!”

“It’s Chris,” the new girl corrected, not taking her hand. “People call me Chris if they know what’s good for them.” Mimi gulped nervously and withdrew her hand, taking a step back to allow her to enter.

“Um, this is Henrietta and Karen,” Mimi stated when none of us said anything. “They’re goths! Isn’t that fun?”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Chris set her things down on one of the beds and turned to look at us. She barely glanced at Karen, immediately locking her eyes on me instead. She held my gaze for an uncomfortably long moment before looking away. There was something about this girl that made me shudder, but I could tell that she would be the more tolerable of the two. She was already halfway goth.

A rather angry knock on our door startled me out of my thoughts. I glanced over as Chris let out a groan of annoyance and turned to open the door. For some reason, I was surprised to see my friends standing there, and all three of them looked annoyed about something. The Bad Girl stereotype glared down at them.

“What do you want?” she growled. I was pleased that my friends were unimpressed by her hostility, though Michael looked taken aback with how much taller she was than him. Pete ignored her and looked past her at Karen and me.

“Henrietta, did you two see this on your door?” he asked, his voice a slight growl as he held up a piece of paper. I stepped around everything and went over to the door to get a better look at it.

“What is it?” I wondered. He held it out to me, too disgusted to speak. Karen appeared by my side as I snatched the paper out of Pete’s hand and read it over. We both let out cries of outrage. “We have to get school uniforms?” I snarled. “Are you fucking kidding me?!?”

“I know, right?” Firkle growled. “No wonder why our parents wanted to send us here! They wanted to turn us into conformists, right down to our clothes!”

“I’m sorry, who are you three?” Mimi asked curiously. We all ignored her.

“Where did you get this, anyway?” Karen wondered, taking the paper from my hand and reading it over once more, as if she couldn’t believe that it was real.

“It was on our door,” Michael answered, shaking his head in despair. “I guess we didn’t notice it because we were too busy with other shit before.” I glanced at our own door and saw that there was indeed a paper taped just under our names. It was a different color paper, but otherwise exactly the same. I let out a groan of annoyance.

“Could this school get any worse?” I sighed.

“Come on, it’s not that bad!” Mimi piped in. “The school uniforms are actually quite cute! And they’re not expensive either! And they come in different colors!”

“We’re goths,” Pete snarled at her. “We don’t do cute.”

“We were going to go down and see if they had anything in black,” Michael told us, ignoring him. “And if they didn’t, we were just going to try setting all of the uniforms on fire.”

“Did you want to come?” Firkle added.

Karen and I exchanged a glance before turning back to our boys. “Yeah, sure, why not,” Karen answered after a moment. “We can get black spray paint while we’re out.”

I grabbed my purse (which was black, of course) and we quickly started towards the door. Unfortunately, Mimi hopped off her bed and followed me over to my friends.

“Can I go with you?” she asked excitedly. “I need to pick out my outfit before you burn everything down!” I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

“Fine,” I growled. Before we could move, Chris was also standing beside me.

“I’m coming too,” she stated.

“I don’t care,” I snapped, following my friends out the door. Neither girl reacted to my hostility and just calmly followed us out the door and down the hallway. Firkle had already taken the lead, holding a map of the campus out in front of him, grumbling angrily under his breath.

It took me a moment to realize there was someone else following us as well, and I leaned forward to tap Pete on the shoulder.

“Who’s the dork?” I asked, pointing at him. Pete let out an annoyed sigh.

“Our roommate,” he replied, not bothering to lower his voice. “He’s a nerd stereotype. Unfortunately.” I gave him a sympathetic glance. I couldn’t tell what was worse, the nerd or the girly-girl. I remember them saying that their roommate’s name was Seymour, but I don’t think I was going to recall his name at all after this.

I noticed Seymour staring wide-eyed at me and I turned to glare at him. His eyes widened even further. He awkwardly pointed at me.

“Pretty…!” he said slowly. I let out a growl and slapped him across the face. “I deserved that,” he mumbled when he managed to climb to his feet.

We continued on in silence for a while. It was the first week of September, so the weather couldn’t decide if it wanted to be hot or cold, but I pressed against Pete’s side anyway. I didn’t like how close Mimi and Chris were to me. I didn’t know what it was about girly-girl stereotypes that didn’t know the meaning of personal space, but it annoyed the hell out of me.

“Where is the place where we’re supposed to get these fucking uniforms anyway?” Karen asked, quickening her pace to walk next to Firkle. I tried to hold in a laugh as I saw Firkle get visibly flustered as she pressed gently against his side.

“Um, the school store is across campus,” Firkle said after a moment.

“Of course, it is,” Michael sighed, rolling his eyes. “Because it would be convenient if the school store was right next to the dorm rooms.”

“God, this place is lame,” I snarled.

It didn’t take us too long to reach the campus store, thank god. The way Chris was leering at me was starting to creep me out, and I wanted to get away from her as fast as possible. The school store was rather large, and annoyingly brightly colored. It was already rather crowded with new students and parents who hadn’t abandoned them the first chance they got.

Almost immediately, Seymour was running off towards the back where all the textbooks and nerdy stuff was sitting. Mimi was happily skipping off towards the clothing section, and Chris walked over to the housekeeping aisle. I looped my arm through Pete’s and pressed close to him. The last thing we wanted was to get separated in this crowd of conformists.

Firkle looked over at the rest of us with an apprehensive look on his face. “So, should we go see if they have anything in black, or-?” He didn’t get to finish his thought, however, because at that moment a tall, muscular guy in a black, leather jacket rudely shoved our friend over in an attempt to get past us. Firkle went falling to the floor.

“Hey!” Michael snarled. “Watch where you’re going, asshole!”

The guy turned around and glared at us and I could see that he was a 1950’s bad boy stereotype. He had the greased back hair, the indoor shades, the stupid leather jacket, a toothpick jutting between his teeth, and an obnoxious belt. I could tell that this guy was a douche in every sense of the word.

“Rider doesn’t watch where he’s going,” the guy growled. “Rider goes where he wants.”

“Oh yeah?” I challenged. “And who’s Rider?” He jammed a thumb at himself.

“This is Rider,” he replied. We all rolled our eyes.

“Oh great,” Pete muttered under his breath. “And he talks in the third person. What an asshole.” I nodded in agreement. Karen was already on her knees to help Firkle to his feet. As soon as Firkle was standing again, he walked over to the greaser stereotype and angrily kicked him in the shin. The guy grabbed his leg in pain and glared down at him as I quickly grabbed Firkle and pulled him out of the greaser’s reach.

“Come on,” Michael said. “Let’s go and see these so-called uniforms.” He took off towards the same direction Mimi had gone and the rest of us followed him, ignoring that guy Rider as he glared after us.

Mimi (and yes, her name was obnoxious, thank you) was standing around the clothes section with arms folded impatiently, waiting for us. She was surrounded by the same blazer and shirt, they all came in a rainbow of colors. Unfortunately, two of the colors you could pick from were black and dark gray, so I guess we could hold off on burning the place down. For now.  
“They got lucky this time,” I growled under my breath, casting an uninterested eye over the selections.

“What’s the point of uniforms if they’re just going to come in different colors, anyway?” Michael wondered, looking at the uniforms with disgust. “It’s like they want us to hate them!”

“At least they don’t only come in bright primary colors,” Pete growled.

“Can we just hurry up and buy these?” Firkle asked. “My eyes are starting to hurt from how bright it is in here.”

We all grabbed something in black, ignoring Karen’s protests when we said we would pay for hers, and I turned to see Mimi walking up with her own uniform. I let out a groan of annoyance when I saw what color she had picked.

“Please tell me you’re not getting yours in pink,” I groaned. She smiled sweetly.

“Yes, I am!” she replied. “Pink is my favorite color!”

“Of course, it is,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. I was going to have to be seen with this girl. My only hope was that she wasn’t in any of my classes so people wouldn’t think we were friends. Lord knows what I would do if people associated me with her.

“Come on, let’s get out of here already,” Firkle whined, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Fine,” Michael sighed, leading the way towards the check out. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the bad boy stereotype, Rider, was glaring at us and I rolled my eyes. This school was getting on my nerves already and class hadn’t even started yet. I could barely last the first day, I had no idea how I was going survive the rest of the year.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” I said to Pete as we were leaving (not bothering to wait for our other two roommates). “When we get back to South Park, my parents are so dead for making us come here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly had no idea how to end this chapter, so I’m just going to end it right there. My sister has the next chapter, so look forward to that. We’ll get to see just how bad this boarding school is and how annoying their fellow classmates will be.  
> Hopefully you didn’t find this chapter too boring or rushed. I really had no idea what I was going to do with this chapter. Like, at all. I only knew that Henrietta was going to be narrating it. Hopefully Weston will come up with something better next chapter.


	4. Getting Shin-Gles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The goths have a week before classes to do whatever they want.  
> Man are they gonna be bored.

Firkle’s POV

 

Usually I enjoy having nightmares. What other people find frightful and disturbing, I relish in experiencing. But not that night. I dreamt I was strapped to a table with a dark figure looming over me. It was giggling in a creepy manner as it inched closer to me. Then the figure started to grow larger and take on a familiar shape, but I couldn’t quite make it out. I opened my mouth to scream for help but no sound came out. Then the figure spoke.

“Don’t worry, Georgie,” it hissed in a strangely pleasant but still unsettling voice, “I’ll take good care of you. I always take care of my favorites. And I have a feeling you’ll be my favorite one yet.”

Then the figure closed its mouth over mine, its tongue sliding down my throat, and I woke with a start, gasping for air. I sat up and looked around the darkened room while clutching my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. Loud snores were coming from Seymour, and I could make out the sleeping forms of Michael and Pete. A digital clock on the desk said it was 5:30am.

I was shaking from my nightmare. What the fuck was that? That figure in my dream looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place my finger on who it was. I didn’t normally do this, but I carefully got out of bed and crept over to Michael’s bed. Making sure he didn’t wake up, I climbed under the covers with him and gently pressed against him. I had my back pressed to his, so it wasn’t all gay and snuggly, but it did make me feel a little better.

Michael had always felt like an older brother to me, and I knew I could count on him to comfort me. Even if he wasn’t aware of it.

I tried to fall back asleep by closing my eyes and thinking of nothing. I’m not sure if I succeeded or not. I think I slept for a little while because when I opened my eyes again Michael was moving behind me.

“Where did this Firkle come from?” he asked. He had reached a hand behind himself and was poking me in the head.

“Well, Michael,” mumbled a half-asleep Pete, “When a mommy and daddy love each other very much, they get certain urges…” He was silenced when Michael threw his pillow at him and Pete took it with a grunt.

I refused to look at Michael when he turned to me. “So, what are you doing in my bed?” he wondered, “Did you get up in the middle of the night and forget where your bed is?”

I really didn’t want to admit that I got scared by a nightmare and didn’t want to be alone in my bed, so instead I said in a slow voice, “Sure…”

There was a sigh from Michael and I flinched when I felt him ruffle my hair. I hated it when he did that. I shivered slightly when he got up as I lost my heat source. I debated whether or not I wanted to try going back to sleep, as I was still tired, and classes didn’t start until next week, but I imagined my friends would probably want me to hang out with them. Also, Michael was already prodding me with his smelly foot.

“Get up already, Firkle, you lazy bum,” he muttered at me. I groaned and curled up, trying to ignore him. But apparently Pete wanted to get in on my torment and chucked a pillow at me, hitting me square in the back.

“Ugh, fine,” I growled, at them, “I’m getting up.”

As I stood up, nerd-stereotype suddenly out an over exaggerated yawn. “Morning roomies!” he greeted in that obnoxious voice of his, “Michael! Pete! Georgie!”

“My name is Firkle,” I growled at him.

Almost as soon as the three of us were finished getting dressed and ready for the day (with Michael grabbing a hairbrush, walking to the mirror, looking at it, and going “eh”) there was a knock on our door. Pete went over to answer it revealing Henrietta and Karen standing there.

“Hey,” Henrietta greeted, “We were gonna look for a place where we can smoke away from all the conformists.”

“Great,” Pete replied, “I’ve been dying for a smoke. I’ve been on edge since we got here.” I could relate. And my nightmare from last night did not help.

We were about to head out the door when we heard a cough and turned to see Seymour. “Um, smoking is bad for you,” he pointed out. We all gave him a cold “no shit” stare. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, just thought you should know,” he mumbled.

The five of us headed out the door without another word to nerd stereotype. We decided to check if the roof of our dorm was accessible at all because we figured no one would ever find us up there. To our luck it was, and there was plenty of shade from the trees nearby.

Without hesitation we all picked a spot to sit and pulled out our packs of cigarettes and lit up. I chose to sit next to Pete and lay my head on his lap because I was still fucking tired. He ran his fingers through my hair, which felt good, but then he decided to be a prick and blow smoke in my face. I took a drag of my own cigarette and blew a lungful of smoke right back at him.

“You two are children,” Henrietta said, exhaling her own smoke.

“Tell that to him,” I muttered, “I’m allowed to be. I’m only eleven.”

“So, what are we supposed to do all week until classes start?” Karen wondered.

“That’s a great question,” Michael responded, “I have no fucking clue. They haven’t even told us how to get our schedules. Not that I plan on going to any of the classes.”

“They probably thought we would be using this time to wander the campus and get to know where everything is,” I murmured, “Like that would ever happen.”

“Firkle, did you get enough sleep last night?” Pete asked me. I opened one eye to look up at him and saw him looking down at me with a slightly worried expression. I closed my eye.

“Yeah,” I lied, “It’s just too early in the morning.”

“Maybe we should get something to eat,” Karen suggested, “Get our energy levels up. I’m still a little bit groggy too.” I hoped I wasn’t blushing. I appreciated her taking the attention off of me.

“After we’re done smoking,” Henrietta said.

“After we’re done smoking, of course,” Karen agreed.

When we were finished smoking, we wandered over to where the cafeteria was. Again we had to use a map, because this campus is fucking huge. Luckily, there weren’t too many students there as most of them were probably still asleep.

The cafeteria was pretty massive with countless of options for food that didn’t matter at all to us because we just got coffee and toast with jam. The only of us who got anything more was Karen who also got a plate of scrambled eggs, but we didn’t judge her for it.

We were enjoying our meal in peace at a round table that just had five chairs, so you know, no one could join us. But of course it couldn’t stay that way.

There was a loud squeal of joy, causing us to flinch. I looked up and around to see where it came from and was annoyed to see Karen and Henrietta’s annoying roommate, Mimi. We groaned with annoyance as she waved at us and ran over to join us.

“Hey, goth roomies!” she greeted joyfully. Great, she was a morning person. The worst kind of conformist.

“Why are you talking to us?” Henrietta growled at her, “We really don’t want to be seen with you.”

“Oh, that’s ok! I’ll just sit at this table then!” she exclaimed, taking the table right next to ours. My friend rolled her eyes. What part of “didn’t want to be seen with her” did she not understand? What was more annoying was that Mimi twisted herself around in her seat so she could talk to us. This girl was clueless.

“So, what are my new goth friends up to today?” the peppy stereotype asked.

“We’re not your friends,” Michael muttered at her, “At most we’ll barely tolerate your existence.” This didn’t seem to phase her because she just giggled.

“So, wow! You guys must have been here a while, huh? All you’ve got left on your plates is toast!” Mimi talked in a fast voice that really irritated me. Before we could tell her that’s the only thing we put on our plates (and that we wanted to eat in peace) she showed us all the random breakfast items she piled on her own plate.

“I’m a vegetarian,” she informed us as if we could give a shit, “So I don’t eat anything with meat in it. I think it’s cruel to animals. So I eat mostly soy products and other…”

Since I couldn’t care less about whatever the fuck she was rambling on about, I got up from my seat and walked over to the center buffet where they were serving a variety of various smaller breakfast things. I piled some bacon, ham, more ham, and an egg onto a plate before walking back to the table, sitting down, and looking directly at Mimi. She blinked at me and opened and closed her mouth, looking like she wanted to say something, but wisely decided not to. She started to slowly start rambling on about her vegetarian fetish again, so I took a piece of bacon off my plate and took a bite of it, slowly chewing it to let her know I didn’t give a damn.

Luckily, our awkward stand-off was interrupted by a bunch of cheering and screeching. We all turned to see what was going on (hopefully someone was dying.) Unfortunately it was just a bunch of girls in bright pink cheerleaders’ uniforms.

“Oh, Christine must be recruiting for her lame-o cheer squad already,” Mimi scoffed.

“Gross,” Henrietta muttered.

We watched as the cheerleaders did their stupid routine right in the middle of the cafeteria, which seemed like a very idiotic place to do a routine. I turned back to my plate just in time to see Michael trying to steal some ham and smacked his hand away.

I’m not sure when the big block-shaped football guy came in, but suddenly there was a loud grunt and the entire building started shaking as someone started stomping towards us. I looked over to see this massive cube shaped guy with a buzz cut and just the most unpleasant face storming up behind Michael. I reached over and gently tugged on my friend’s arm.

“Um, Michael? Look behind you,” I warned him.

Michael blinked at me then turned in his seat to see the huge football guy standing behind him. His eyes widened. Michael tended to get intimidated by anyone who was taller than him, and this guy was fucking Goliath.

“You’re the guy who was kicking the back of my seat during the opening ceremony yesterday,” the big guy growled at my friend. Michael simply stared at him, unable to speak. I’m pretty sure the big guy was going to murder him, but at that moment one of the cheerleaders danced her way over to us. She was skinnier than the other cheerleaders, and Mimi for that matter. She had tight curls in her long bright yellow hair that was done in a pony tail and was wearing way too much make up.

“Bruce! What are you doing!” she whined hanging off his large, muscular arm, “Pay attention to me!”

Really? Bruce? Giant football player jock stereotype’s name was Bruce? And this whiny bitch was probably his cheerleader girlfriend. Could this guy get anymore cliché?

Wait… wasn’t Bruce the name of the guy who stuffed our roommate in the wardrobe? So he picks on nerds too? By the love of Satan, he could be more cliché!

“Not now, babe,” Bruce growled, trying to shake the cheerleader stereotype off of him, “This guy was annoying me at the opening yesterday, so I was gonna pound his face in.”

“Well that seems unnecessarily drastic,” I heard Pete mutter beside me.

It was then that cheerleader stereotype caught sight of Michael, who hadn’t moved or said anything. She shoved Bruce back and got right in Michael’s face, who finally moved, flinching away from her. I instantly recognized the look on this girl’s face. It was the Disney “love-at-first-sight” face.

May God have mercy on Michael.

“Hi,” the girl said in an overly flirtatious tone, and twirling her hair on her finger, “My name’s Christine. What’s your name?”

Instead of answering, Michael’s eyes slowly drifted behind her to her large boyfriend who was slowly turning red with rage. I couldn’t blame my friend for not wanting to answer her. If he gave his name to her, that meant the huge raging bull behind her had his name as well, which meant he could find him easier. So Michael remained silent.

Unfortunately, Mimi decided not to. “Oh, that’s Michael!” she exclaimed loudly like a dumbass. All five of us face-palmed.

“Mmm… Michael…” Christine sighed, “What a handsome name for a handsome man.” I could see Bruce behind her making various “you’re dead” gestures at Michael. He grabbed Christine by the arm and dragged her away while she blew kisses at my friend.

Once they were gone, Michael finally spoke. “I don’t like those people,” he said, “They frighten me.”

“Wimp,” Henrietta muttered under her breath.

“I’m done with this place,” I muttered, “There’s too many people here now. Let’s get out of here.” We all stood up and were about to leave but Mimi stopped us.

“Aren’t you going to finish that?” she asked me, gesturing to my plate of meat.

I walked back to the table and took a piece of ham off the plate before picking up the whole plate. Then I walked over to some random guy, opened up the back of his pants, and dumped the rest of the meat into them before depositing my plate on a nearby counter. I walked back to my friends while Mimi looked on in shock.

When we got back to our rooms there was another notice on the door. Michael took the one off our door and quickly scanned it.

“Ugh, there’s a stupid dorm meeting later this week that we have to attend,” he growled, crumpling up the paper and tossing it on the floor.

“Lame,” Pete agreed, “What’s even the point of those? To learn the rules? To meet new people? Just post the rules on a corkboard or something and we don’t want to meet new people.”

“I bet they have a separate meeting on each floor, as if they want each one to all get along and shit,” Karen muttered, “Well they’ll have another thing coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I had no idea how to end this chapter and it was getting a little long. So, this is where I’ll end it. Next time will be Pete’s view point and the dorm meeting and maybe classes will start? If Night Witch gets around to it.


	5. Judging Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dorm meeting is called, the goths meet some people and hate everything about the school.  
> Also, Michael acts like a total spaz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t really have anything planned for much of this chapter. That, and I have a full-time job now so I won’t be able to update as much as I want. I hope you can be patient with me.

Pete's POV

It’s really hard to come up with stuff to do when you’re forced to go to boarding school and you’re anti-social. Sure, you can hang outside, smoke, and recite dark poetry, but it’s not the same when you’re not skipping class to do it. It was really telling when a stupid dorm meeting was the most exciting thing that’s happening in your life.

Already, Seymour liked to follow us around a lot, saying stereo-typical nerdy things. I don’t think he had said every word in the human language in one week, but I had the feeling that he was trying to. He followed us up to the roof of our dorm and bored us all silly listing all of the ingredients in cigarettes, and all of the health hazards that came with smoking. We had to stop Firkle from shoving him off the roof.

Henrietta and Karen’s two roommates weren’t much better. Mimi wouldn’t shut the fuck up, much like our roommate, but her topics were much worse because they were mostly the stereotypical ditzy blonde topics. And she always wore pink. Always.

I know Henrietta seemed to like her, but I hated Chris. She was a wannabe anti-conformist, plain and simple. I didn’t like the way she talked, how she was always somehow chewing gum, I didn’t like her piercings, her stupid leather outfits, or her trying-to-be-edgy tattoos. I hated how she blasted her obnoxious music, claiming it was just like our goth music. And I really couldn’t stand the way she would just stare at Henrietta with that stupid scowl on her face.

I had already gotten into an argument with her when I told her that her stupid ass music was not goth (because it wasn’t). Just because her shitty music was all “anti-authority” did not automatically make it goth, and I told her as much. She had just scoffed and said that she was a bigger anti-conformist than me, and possibly a better goth just because all of her outfits were all black. I barely held myself back from slapping her, the bitch.

I was not in the best mood when that stupid dorm meeting was finally called and we all had to gather in the lounge of the building. While we were walking down the hall towards the lounge, we were joined by a group of guys that included the jock stereotype, the bad boy stereotype and two others we had not seen before. One of them seemed to be the popular, pretty boy stereotype, with the flowing blonde hair that was constantly billowing in the non-existent wind, and the annoyingly blue eyes and perfect smile and everything.

The moment the four guys stepped out of their room and spotted us, Bruce quickly caught up to Michael just so he could rudely shove him out of the way. Firkle made sure to kick both Rider and Bruce in the shin as he passed them, and we all hung back slightly so we wouldn’t have to be seen walking with these people.

We managed to make our way down to the first floor without any further incident. Then, with no warning whatsoever, Henrietta suddenly turned and socked the obvious pretty boy stereotype right in the face. Michael, Karen, Firkle and I stared in amazement as she angrily stormed ahead after he fell to the floor, giving us no explanation as to why she just randomly punched the guy’s lights out. We exchanged shocked glances before hurrying to catch up with our suddenly angry friend, just leaving the pretty boy unconscious on the floor.

The lounge was rather large and very plush, with a lot of brightly colored furniture. It was one of the most horrendous rooms I had ever seen in my life. And it was full of people, which made it even worse.

The five of us stood near the entrance, trying to find seats that weren’t brightly colored, and found some in the back of the room near the jock stereotype. Michael led the way across the crowded room, and as soon as we sat down, he began kicking the back of Bruce’s seat, much to the football player’s annoyance.

“You gonna tell us why you just punched that guy’s lights out, Henrietta?” Karen asked once we were marginally comfortable. Henrietta blinked at her and didn’t reply right away.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at me,” she muttered eventually.

“How was he looking at you?” I wondered. Before she could answer, however, Chris came up to us, dragging a chair with her, and sat down in between Henrietta and me. She ignored the glare I gave her and instead turned towards Henrietta.

“I tried sitting in the other corner, but our other roommate wouldn’t shut up,” she explained, rolling her eyes at the memory. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t care,” Henrietta replied. A smile tugged slightly at the punk chick’s lips.

“I found some black spray paint, by the way,” she said. “We can start redecorating our room when we get out of this stupid meeting.” Henrietta didn’t smile, but a smirk did tug at her mouth as well.

“Excellent,” she stated. I narrowed my eyes at the punk chick, but I didn’t get to say anything as the dorm advisor came into the room and started talking our ears off about curfews and loud noises and shit like that. It wasn’t really like we were listening.

The jock Bruce at some point turned around in his seat to glare at Michael, who didn’t seem to notice and just continued to kick the back of his seat, a bored expression plastered on his face. The guy in front of us seemed to go on for hours. Henrietta and Chris kept whispering to each other next to me, while Firkle had fallen asleep and was leaning heavily on Michael.

Finally, after what seemed hours later, the dorm advisor finally shut up and we were allowed to leave. He kept cheerfully calling out that now would be the perfect time to get to know the people in our building, but none of my friends and I really wanted to do that. Instead, we struggled towards the entrance to the hall so we could get the hell out of there.

I have this thing about crowds. I hated them. I couldn’t stand the multiple people swarming around me, or the pushing and shoving and loud noises that came with them. If there were too many people in that crowd, I felt myself struggling to breathe, and that has once or twice led me into having a panic attack. I didn’t tell my friends about this, because really it was none of their business, but even as we tried to make our way back to our room I could feel the familiar pang of nervousness rise inside me.

We were almost back out into the hall when I found my path suddenly blocked by the pretty boy stereotype Henrietta had knocked out earlier. He had a winning smile on his face that managed show every single one of his perfect, white teeth. I heard Henrietta snarl and felt her press herself against my side. I tried not to shudder.

“Hi there!” he said, sounding friendly despite standing in front of the person who had just randomly punched him in the face. “I don’t think we were properly introduced. I’m Trent!”

I gave him a confused look, unable to understand why this guy was talking to me. “That’s nice,” I replied eventually. I tried to walk around him to get the hell out of there, but he moved slightly to block my path. Henrietta snarled at him again.

“I was just thinking since we’ll all be living under the same roof, we could try being friendly towards each other,” this guy, Trent, said. “So, what are your names?”

“None of your business,” Henrietta snapped, grabbing my arm. “Now, get the fuck out of our way!” Trent looked over at her, as if he had just realized she was there. Before he could speak, however, Henrietta pushed past him, dragging me with her. I heard footsteps behind me as our friends hurried after us.

“What was that all about?” Michael asked when he caught up with us. “You’d think he’d be angrier at the person who randomly punched him in the face.”

“He must really have a thing for you, Henrietta, if he was willing to forgive you that easily,” Firkle pointed out thoughtfully. I wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t looked at Henrietta once during that brief conversation.

We were all silent as we made our way up to the third floor. I felt myself begin to breathe easier as we got further away from the blather of the crowd still back on the first floor. Henrietta pressed against my side until we finally reached our rooms. She immediately broke away from the rest of us and stormed into her room, a very confused Karen following slowly after her.  
Seymour hadn’t returned when the three of us stepped into our room. Michael and Firkle immediately started muttering about how they needed to go smoke, but I hung back. I wanted to take advantage of the fact that everyone else on the floor was gone to take a shower.

That was one of the main problems with this stupid school. There was absolutely no privacy anywhere. You had to share your bedroom, the restrooms, and even the shower rooms weren’t private. I thought you were supposed to only endure this sort of thing in college. We had to go looking for solitude in unusual places because of how everything here was public.

The only thing that separated the showers were walls on either side, and two curtains. That was all that separated you from humiliation. It didn’t help that the water took forever to heat up, something I was very unfortunate to find out. I guess I really shouldn’t have expected much from a boarding school that was tuition free, but still…

When I finally came back into the room, Michael, Firkle and Seymour were still not there. I figured my two friends were still on the roof, and I didn’t really care where our other roommate was. With a sigh, I sat down on my bed and pulled out my iPod and headphones.

Despite all of us still liking dark, depressing, angst music, my friends and I had all developed our own tastes in different music. For example, Firkle, being the pretentious little twat that we always knew he was, had become obsessed with opera music. I don’t know why it had to be opera, it annoyed the fuck out of the rest of us whenever he decided to play his music loudly while we were doing something.

As I sat there, listening to music and thinking of maybe doing something productive, I saw Michael enter the room out of the corner of my eye. Michael mostly stuck to industrial music, but he also liked obnoxiously screaming metal death bands. Thankfully, unlike Firkle, he didn’t torture the rest of us with his poor taste in music.

Henrietta preferred dark wave and post punk music (which is totally different from punk rock, I swear). Karen gravitated towards dark wave as well, and I liked gothic rock, as well as bands like Evanescence, Nirvana and Breaking Benjamin.

I was listening to Breaking Benjamin when I suddenly realized that Michael had been standing in front of me for about five minutes. I looked up to see that his mouth was moving and he looked kind of embarrassed about something. My music completely drowned him out, so I had no idea what he was saying. Had he been talking at me this entire time?

Confused, I slowly reached up and took the headphones out of my ears.

“Did you say something, Michael?” I asked him. He stared at me in complete shock.

“Wh-But I…I didn’t…” he stuttered, his eyes widening. I continued to stare in confusion at him, wondering what the hell he was stuttering for. Eventually, he managed to work out a cohesive sentence. “Why is your hair all wet?” he finally asked. I narrowed my eyes.

“Because I just washed it,” I pointed out slowly. He blinked at me for several long moments. Then he turned his head away and I could see his face turning red.

“Oh,” he mumbled. Then, before I could ask any questions of my own, he quickly turned and raced out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I couldn’t help but stare after him.

What the hell had that been about? Had Michael always been that weird and awkward and I just never noticed? Or had I just been imagining things?

Just then, Firkle came back into the room, looking at something in the hall with confusion on his face. He turned to me after a moment.

“What’s up with Michael?” he asked me, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

“I have no idea,” I told him with a long sigh. “I was just sitting here, listening to music, and he came in and started talking at me. When I took out my headphones and asked him what he had said, he just kind of blustered something and bolted from the room.”

Firkle’s look of confusion was immediately replaced with one of annoyance.

“That idiot,” he muttered, mostly under his breath. He shuffled over to his bed and flopped down onto it. “I’m going to bed now,” he announced. I looked over at him.

“It’s not even dinner time yet,” I pointed out to him. His only reply was to grunt angrily, then the next sound that came out of him was a loud, muffled snore. I let out a sigh and rose to drape his blankets over him before returning to my own bed.

I thought about going to find Michael, but something told me he wouldn’t be any better if I found him. I’m sure whatever was bugging him, he would tell me eventually. Sure, I desperately wanted to know what he seemed so embarrassed about and why he had just bolted like that, but I knew he wasn’t going to give me an answer.

With another sigh, I put my headphones back in and opened my laptop (which was black, of course). Henrietta, Karen and I went to dinner a few hours later, but I didn’t see Michael again until after the rest of us had already gone to bed.

I hadn’t fallen asleep yet, so I saw a beam of light from the hall as he tiptoed into the room, keeping the lights off. He slowly limped over to his own bed after quietly closing the door, and I could hear him standing in between our two beds. He let out a sigh, so soft that I barely heard it, then I heard him scramble into his own bed. I carefully sat up and squinted through the darkness at him, but he had his back turned to me and had already apparently fallen asleep.

Neither of us mentioned his strange behavior the next day, or for the rest of the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna end this chapter here, because I want to. I wanted to get another chapter out to you guys, and I didn’t really know how else to end this chapter. Again, sorry it took so long, but like I said, I have a full-time job now, and inspiration only comes to me when it feels like it, not on a fixed schedule.  
> Anyway, what the hell was up with Michael? Why did Firkle seem to know what was going on? And what’s up with this Trent guy, and why did he seem so friendly, despite Henrietta punching him in the face? And why did she punch him in the face? Well, you’re not going to find out the answers to any of the questions in the next few chapters! Yay!


	6. Classes for the Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Classes start and the goths are not happy. Especially after they see what they're like.

Henrietta’s POV

 

I was dreading the start of classes, and I’m sure my friends were as well. They had security cameras set up to make sure we actually showed up, and the fact that we were confined to a prison meant we didn’t exactly have anywhere to hide. But that didn’t mean I was going to actually try in any class. I was going to show my parents how wrong they were for sending my friends and me to this place.

We got our schedules during the week and thankfully Pete, Michael, and I had all of the same classes, so at least we didn’t have to suffer alone. It was still going to be unbearable, though.

Monday rolled around, our first day of classes, and I did not want to get out of bed. I wondered if I just stayed in my bed if they would actually send someone to get me. I hid my head under my pillow as I listened to my roommates getting ready. Suddenly, I felt someone nudging me.

“Come on, Henrietta,” I heard Karen say, “You’ve gotta get up already or you’re going to be late for your first class.”

“Good,” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the pillow. Karen sighed.

“I know you don’t want to go,” she said, “But you don’t want to leave Pete and Michael on their own, do you?”

“Meh,” I replied.

“Don’t you think it would send a stronger message to your parents if you actually showed up to your class then failed?” she argued, “If you don’t show up they’ll know you didn’t try, but if you do show up then they’ll see that this place isn’t working and let us go home!”

I muttered something incoherent at her. She let out a humph and went silent. I thought she left, but a moment later I felt her climb onto my bed and pull the blanket off me. Just when I wondered what she was doing, she started tickling me, and I bolted up, desperately trying to stifle my laughter.

Goths do not laugh.

“No!” I cried, trying to swat her away, “Stop! What are you doing?! Stop with the tickling!” She ignored me and continued her assault. “Ok! Ok! I’m getting up! I’m getting! You can stop tickling me!”

Smiling in victory like the little devil she was, Karen stopped and hopped off the bed. Glaring slightly, I got up and started getting dressed. Mimi and Chris were already up and ready, but I didn’t really care about them. I couldn’t help but feel like one of them was watching me while I was getting dressed, though.

When Karen and I were finished getting ready, we opened the door to the hallway only to find Michael, Pete, and Firkle standing in the doorway, Pete with his fist raised, ready to knock on the door. They blinked at us in surprise.

“Um, ready to go?” Michael asked awkwardly. I let out a heavy sigh.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I muttered. Just as we left the room, I suddenly felt someone behind me. I looked and saw Chris following me.

“I have like, the same classes as you,” she explained in a bored tone of voice, “So I figured I’d walk with you guys.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” I replied. I couldn’t help but notice the nasty look Pete gave her. I cleared my throat and nudged my tallest friend. “Hey Michael, what’s our first class?”

Michael gave me a look before pulling out a schedule. He let out a groan of annoyance. “We have science first,” he muttered in a disgusted voice. Pete, Chis, and I let our disdain known in our loudest possible moans.

I heard Karen snicker at us. “I have English first,” she told us with a smug grin on her face. I frowned at her.

“Yeah, good for you,” I told her in a snarky voice.

“What do you have, Firkle?” Pete wondered. Sometimes I forgot that Firkle and Karen weren’t in the same grade.

“Math,” Firkle replied in a bored tone of voice, staring at his schedule.

Once we got to the main building we were forced to split from Karen and Firkle. It wasn’t very hard to find out where to go. There were signs fucking everywhere to point out where everything is (i.e. “Here’s the bathroom!” “Here’s room 101!” Here’s room 102!”) Our science class was in room 113 with Mrs. Rogers.

Just walking to class was torture. Walking through a sea of conformists wearing the same clothes and the fake grins. It was agony. I kept Michael and Pete on either side of me so no conformists would touch me.

Finally, we reached the classroom. There were already several students in the room, standing around, talking. A couple was in the corner making out. Michael, Pete, and I immediately headed for the back of the room so we could sit away from the rest of the conformists. I sat in between Pete and Michael and Chris sat in front of Pete.

It wasn’t too long before the teacher arrived. She seemed normal enough, but I wasn’t going to let my guard down. After all, Mr. Garrison had looked normal.

“Take your seats, class,” Mrs. Rogers commanded, “We’re about to begin.”

Everyone went and found seats and I was pleased that they all avoided sitting near us. Except for this really shy looking girl with long brown hair who looked like she was on the verge of tears. She sat down next to Michael.

After the teacher took roll call I learned her name was Melony, which I guess is easier to call her than shy girl stereotype. I’m certain the only reason she by us was so she could be away from everyone else.

While we sat listening to the teacher tell us about what we could expect from her class, I couldn’t help but notice that Chris had turned in her seat sideways and was staring at Michael and me. I wondered what her deal was, but then again, she did look rather bored. I could relate. I did not want to be here.

I turned to Pete and poked him in the arm. He looked at me from the corner of his eye.

“I hope Karen and Firkle aren’t as bored as we are right now,” I whispered to him.

“They’re probably more bored,” he pointed out, “Or at least more miserable. At least we have each other. They don’t even know anyone in their classes. And knowing conformists, someone’s going to try to talk to them.”

“Those poor kids,” I sighed.

I guess science wasn’t going to be that bad since the teacher was relatively normal and there wasn’t anyone annoying in our class. Math class on the other hand, was going to be much, much worse. The teacher, Mr. Stein was batshit insane. Almost as soon as we took our seats he started going on and on about how much better he was at everything than Mrs. Rogers. Not only that, it seemed like nearly everyone we found annoying was in our class.

That brick-head Bruce, Seymour, Mimi, the stupid cheerleader Christine, Chris, that pretty boy Trent. The only one who wasn’t in our class was the bad boy stereotype Rider.

When Seymour saw us come in, he smiled and waved us over. Although he was in the front of the class, I dragged Pete and Michael over to him anyway. He had positioned himself so that there were three seats next to him, so that way no one could sit next to us.

“Hey roomies!” he greeted cheerfully, “I’m so glad we have math class together! Now maybe Bruce won’t beat me up for knowing all the answers!”

“Don’t expect us to be your bodyguards,” I warned him.

“EEEE!” a piercing screech sounded behind us, making us flinch. I turned around and saw Mimi standing behind us. “Hi roomie! Isn’t it neat that we have match together! It’s so cool! Can I sit behind you guys?”

“Sit behind Michael,” I ordered before either of my friends could speak. Mimi gave me a confused look.

“Why?” she asked.

“So Christine can’t sit behind him and drool over him all class,” I replied, eying where Christine was in the corner of the room watching us. She seemed to be waiting for Mimi to move so she could pounce on my friend.

“Christine? Oh yeah! She’s a bitch!” Mimi agreed loudly, taking the desk behind Michael. I watched with satisfaction as Christine frowned and cursed.

I was quite annoyed when that pretty boy Trent came over and took the seat behind me. “Is this seat taken?” he wondered, sitting down. I growled at him, but it was drowned out by like five giggly girls sitting behind him.

“Hey, you guys don’t mind if I sit behind you, do you?” Chris asked as she took the desk behind Pete.

“Go right ahead,” Michael muttered, not really paying attention.

I turned around and leaned back to Chris. “Keep an eye on this pretty boy here for me,” I murmured to her, “I really don’t trust him.”

Chris pointed at me. “You got it, chief,” she replied.

Just as I turned back around, the teacher decided to begin class by quickly introducing himself and then launching into a rant about how this school “doesn’t recognize his brilliance” and how he was “robbed of the ‘teacher of the year’ award” and that “Mrs. Rogers can go to hell.” By the time class was over he hadn’t taken roll call and hadn’t said one word about what we would expect from his class.

“That guy was fucking bonkers,” I muttered as we headed towards our next class.

“He is,” Seymour agreed, “I had him last year for math. He is brilliant, but he tends to go on a lot of tangents. He really hates Mrs. Rogers for some reason.”

“We could tell,” Pete said.

“All right, Michael, what’s our next class?” I asked. He took out the schedule, looked it over and groaned loudly.

“Sex ed,” he replied, sounding absolutely disgusted. Pete and I revolted in horror.

“Are you sure it doesn’t say phys. Ed?” I wondered, though that wouldn’t be a whole lot better. Michael shook his head.

“No, we have that later in the day,” he told us, “Right now we have sex education.”

“Seriously?” Pete hissed, “An entire class about sex? They couldn’t have made it a health class? What is wrong with this school?” He tossed the hair out of his eyes in frustration.

“If you guys are disgusted now, wait until you meet the teacher,” Seymour said.

I dreaded his words all the way to class. I was annoyed to see that Christine and Trent were also in our class when we got there. I was hoping we wouldn’t have Trent for any classes. I didn’t want the teacher taking roll call because then he would learn our names.

This time the four of us sat in the back of the room. I guess Seymour didn’t mind not sitting close to the teacher in this class. I noticed as we came in there were two people making out on the teacher’s desk like crazy. It wasn’t until everyone was seated and they separated that I noticed that they were a bit older than the rest of us. Despite her scantily dressed form, I realized with horror that the woman was our teacher.

“Hello class,” she greeted, slightly out of breath, “Welcome to your first day of sex ed. My name is Miss Lutt.”

“Subtle,” Pete muttered to me.

“This,” Miss Lutt continued, gesturing to the equally scantily dressed young gentleman beside her, “Is my teacher’s assistant and boyfriend Mr. B. He will help me with any… demonstrations that may come up.” She winked at us and I had to suppress a groan.

“Now, let’s get started with roll call,” she said, picking up a clipboard. I hated her for that. I was kind of hoping she would skip it like Mr. Stein would. I wanted to tell Pete and Michael not to answer when she got to their names, but then I would have to explain why.

So, unfortunately Trent learned our names. Asshole.

But probably the worst part was when Miss Lutt got around to describing what the class was going to be like. When she said sex ed, she didn’t mean the kind of sex ed they teach you in middle school health class. She meant actually teaching us how to have sex. She was going to teach us different “techniques” and “positions” and all that crap, and it was making my friends and me very uncomfortable. I was so glad when the bell rang because I’m pretty sure she was two seconds away from giving us a “demonstration.”

“Ok, sex ed is definitely going to be the worst class,” I said as we headed towards the cafeteria for lunch.

“Oh definitely,” Michael agreed, “Did you see some of the guys? Half of them had their hands down their pants just from staring at the teacher.”

“I’m so glad Karen and Firkle don’t have to take that class,” Pete muttered, “They should not have to be subjected to such disgust and terror.”

When we entered the cafeteria, we saw Karen sitting at round table in the corner away from everyone else. She spotted us and waved. We ditched Seymour and quickly made our way over to her.

“Hey kiddo,” I greeted, sitting down next to her.

“No sign of Firkle yet?” Michael wondered. Karen shook her head.

“Not yet,” she replied. Then she gasped. “Oh no! What if he doesn’t have the same lunch time as us? Then we wouldn’t get to see him until the evening!”

“Don’t worry,” Pete calmed her, “I think everyone gets the same hour off for lunch and break. His class is probably just further away than ours.”

“Oh,” Karen said, a little embarrassed.

“So, how are your classes so far?” I asked her.

“Eh, ok I guess,” she answered, “I just wish I had class with at least one of you. And there were less conformists. What about you guys?”

All three of us burst into groans at the same time. Karen blinked at us. “That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea!” I moaned.

We were saved from having to explain anything about our horrible classes by the arrival of Firkle. He looked mildly annoyed as he stomped up to us and sat down next to Michael and folded his arms in irritation.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael asked his friend.

“During my classes no less than five girls came up to me to talk to me and tell me they think I’m cute,” Firkle hissed.

I had to stop myself from laughing. If there was one thing that Firkle hated more than anything it was anyone implying that he was cute. His parents always said he was a “cutie-pie” and because he hated his parents so much, he didn’t like anyone else calling him cute.

“Sorry Firkle,” Pete said, trying to hide a smile.

“That’s not all,” Firkle growled, “That asshole Rider is in my math class.”

“Seriously?” I exclaimed, “He’s in a fifth-grade math class? How stupid is he?”

“Rider was also in my history class earlier,” Karen told us.

“So, pretty darn stupid,” Michael concluded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s the perfect place to end this chapter! My sister is going to pick up with the rest of their classes in the next chapter. What do you think so far? Leave a comment and let us know!


	7. Dealing with Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Goths go through the rest of their classes and encounter some of the strangest teachers yet.  
> Also, Michael continues to act like a spaz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be in Michael’s perspective. I apologize in advance that this chapter is going to take forever to come out. All of my other chapters in my other stories will take a while as well. I’m dealing with some personal issues in my life and I’m not as creative as I used to be. I will try to keep updating, but it’s hard right now.  
> Also, we’re going to be getting an appearance from a character that has crossed many of mine and my sister’s fan fictions! I think you’ll know him when you see him. He can transcend time and space and is immune to the plot!

Michael’s POV

I wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the day. Our first few classes had been bad enough, but we still had gym class to not look forward to. We also had history, which wasn’t so bad, but it was American History, and goths do not give two shits about their own country. Or any other country for that matter.

After we said good-bye to Karen and Firkle, Henrietta, Pete and I slowly made our way to a different building that held the most boring classes like history. What we saw when we reached the classroom made me stop in my tracks.

The strangest-looking, hump-backed, nobly-kneed, one bulgy eyed staring, vulture of a man was shakily standing in the front of the room with long, twig arms held out in front of him like a raptor. He had an L-shaped neck that seemed to defy gravity (and logic), and a crooked jaw that dangled under his large, hook nose. One of his eyes bulged out of his head, while the other was set to permanent squint. And he was about half Firkle’s height. He also, for some unexplained reason, wore a monocle over his bulgy eye and a Viking helmet on his head.

“If you had to imagine what a vulture would look like as a human, that’s exactly what it would look like,” Henrietta muttered in my ear.

“That man is kind of terrifying,” I murmured back.

The terrifying vulture man slowly turned towards us and looked us up and down without moving his head. His creepy noodle neck swung back and forth as he moved and the three of us couldn’t help but stare at him in shock, our eyes slowly widening. And then this horrifying abomination suddenly spoke.

“You three!” he snapped in a high-pitched, gravelly voice that kind of sounded like he was trying to speaking with a mouthful of water. “Sit down already! I’m about to start class!” The three of us jumped with fright and quickly took the nearest unoccupied seats. He swiveled his head around for a moment to make sure we were all there before slowly shuffling over to the front desk (which was taller than him). He reappeared a few moments later with a stack of papers in his spindly arms.

“Good afternoon, class,” he said in a much softer voice. “I am Professor Slackjaw, your history teacher.” Of course, that was his name. “Before we get started, I’m going to take attendance, and then I’m going to assign you to your permanent seats for the year.”

I felt my heart sink. Assigned seating? Really? There was a chance that I wouldn’t be sitting with Pete and Henrietta while trying to ignore this scary abomination of a vulture man? What kind of bullshit was this?

He was very slow in calling everyone’s names, and even slower in assigning us all seats. When he got to me, he pursed his lips and said that I would be taking one of the seats all the way in the back of the classroom. I let out a groan of annoyance when he sat the douches Rider and Bruce on either side of me. Henrietta’s roommate Chris was also forced to sit in the back with us, along with some other rather tall kids. Pete and Henrietta were seated in the middle row, with only that pretty boy Trent in between them. Both of them did not look happy about that.

At long last we were all sitting in our assigned seats, but before this “Professor Slackjaw” could begin to explain what his teachings would include or what to expect, the bell rang, signaling the end of class.

“I hope it was my imagination, but it feels like the scary little vulture man was glaring at me the entire time,” I confessed as I joined my friends out into the hall.

“Oh, it wasn’t just you,” Henrietta replied nonchalantly. “He was totally glaring at you the whole time.” I gave her an annoyed stare.

“Thanks, Henrietta,” I growled. “That makes me feel so much better.” Her only reply was an uncaring shrug.

“Did anyone else notice that he sat all of the tallest students in the back?” Pete pointed out. I had sort of noticed that, but now it was a lot more obvious once Pete had pointed it out. But that was quickly driven from our minds when we saw that our last class for the day was gym. A goth’s worse nightmare. We all let out a groan.

Gym class was by far the worst class yet. The teacher was a female drill sergeant, with the hat and the whistle and everything. She had big, beefy muscles and she didn’t really speak so much as bark her words. She forced everyone to stand in a line from tallest to shortest, with our back erect, like we were in the military or something.

“Now listen up,” she barked. “You will all address me as Sgt. Pepper! You will all assemble here swiftly and before the bell rings!” She started marching up and down the row of us, looking disapproving at all of us. “If it were up to me, we’d do away with these silly school uniforms and go for something more military. And you’d all have official military buzz cuts. None of this ‘individuality’ nonsense.” She paused a moment to sneer at Pete, whose hair always looked like he had just rolled out of bed and was still dyed red at the roots. He narrowed his eyes at her, but didn’t speak.

The teacher then proceeded to ramble about how if she ran the school, it would be more of a military camp than a school, and we were forced to stand for the entire ramble. It was torture. Needless to say, we were more than thankful when the bell mercifully rang and we were finally able to leave this abomination.

“Why do all of these teachers have to ramble?” Henrietta complained as we made our way back to our dorm room. “I don’t think we’ll have to try very hard to fail; with the way they go on, I’m not going to learn a damn thing anyway.”

“I just wish jock stereotype wasn’t in a majority of our classes,” I sighed. “Especially gym class. It’s going to be a nightmare!”

“If that gym teacher thinks we’re going to wear gym clothes, she’s going to be sadly disappointed,” Pete added.

Before any of us could add anything more, we heard our names being called in a high-pitched, nerdy voice, and I didn’t need to turn around to know that Seymour was hurrying to catch up to us. He was in most of our classes as well, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he complained that gym was his one blemish on his otherwise perfect record.

“Hey there, roomies!” he greeted in that annoying, nasally voice of his. “How’s it going? Can you believe Sgt. Pepper? She gives that speech every year, it’s crazy!”

I managed not to roll my eyes, but only just. I had no idea how we were expected to survive the week, let alone the semester. I wasn’t sure what our roommate was so happy about. If I had to hear the same damn speech while standing at attention every year, I would go mad.

“I definitely need a smoke when we get back to the room,” I muttered. “I feel like I’m about to go crazy by this point.”

“Just wait until you get to swim class,” Seymour replied. “That class is the worst.”

We all groaned in annoyance. “There’s a swim class?” Henrietta groaned.

“Once a week,” the nerd told her, nodding solemnly. “And you can’t weasel out of it either. I told the teacher multiple times about my asthma and how I can’t swim, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t take any excuse.”

Great. That’s just what I needed. To make a fool of myself in a swimsuit. I wasn’t fat or skin and bones, but I happened to avoid exercise like the plague. All of us did. And I only swam if I absolutely had to. And there were other reasons why I avoided pools or anywhere where you could swim. Plenty of other reasons. Well, ok, there was only one real reason why I didn’t like going near a pool, and that reason was walking right next to me.

“I just hope Firkle and Karen’s day was better than ours,” Henrietta sighed.

Firkle, at least, was not in our room by the time we got back. Henrietta came over and asked us if we wanted to take a walk with her to find other places around campus to smoke in the middle of classes. Pete mumbled something that might have been a word, and simply flopped onto his bed with back towards us, so I decided to go with her. I was dismayed when Chris followed us into the hall, saying she was coming as well. Chris was taller than me. I didn’t like that.

We walked around campus for a long while, trying to find places near every building where we could smoke in peace but not have to walk far. Chris walked in between Henrietta and me, making me glare at her, though she didn’t notice. The sun was already starting to set as well, which is good because goths hate the sun.

Our walk would have been almost pleasant if Chris didn’t feel the need to complain about pretty much everything. It was like she was trying to prove that she was bad enough to hang out with us. She wasn’t impressing me, at least, but she didn’t really seem to care about me. I don’t even think she knew my name.

The sun had set by the time we got back. We had found plenty of places to smoke, thank Satan. I had planned on going up to the roof to smoke as soon as I got back, but the sight that greeted me when I walked into my room kind of pushed smoking to the back of my mind.

Firkle was on top of Pete, who was laying on his bed and had the younger boy in a headlock, giving him a noogie, while Firkle was either attempting to claw Pete’s eyes out, or rip his hair off. They barely looked up when I entered the room and they definitely didn’t stop whatever the heck they were doing.

“Hey Michael,” Firkle greeted with a grunt, trying to squirm out of Pete’s grasp.

“What the hell are you two doing?” I wondered.

“Bonding,” Pete said, nonchalantly. I let out a long sigh and rolled my eyes. To say that this was the only time I had walked in on Pete and Firkle trying to kill each other for no discernable reason would have been a flat out lie.

Pete and Firkle, as they’ve both told me, have a sort of older/younger brother dynamic. The two of them are constantly trying to annoy each other, but they wouldn’t hesitate to risk their lives for each other. And Pete was usually the first person Firkle went to for advice, next to me, of course. To Firkle, Pete was the cocky yet still overprotective older brother, while Pete viewed Firkle as his obnoxious kid brother he never wanted.

“How was your walk?” Pete asked, still keeping Firkle in a headlock and ruffling his hair.

“Eh,” I shrugged. “Chris came along and she kind of just complained the entire time.”

Firkle had managed to wrap his tiny little hands around Pete’s neck and was trying to strangle him, I think. I casually walked over and yanked him out of Pete’s grasp and held him at arm’s length.

“Do you know when our first swim class is?” I asked Pete, looking down at him as Firkle began kicking his feet.

“Tomorrow around three-thirty, I think,” Pete replied, closing his eyes. “We have that instead of gym class.” Firkle stopped struggling in my hands.

“That’s when I have swim class,” he told us. “We’re going to be taking it together? I don’t know if that’s a good idea or not.” I had to agree with him, though it was nice to know that I would be spending at least one of my classes with my best friend. I just hoped he and Karen would be the only people we would be sharing swim class with.

We were not so lucky. The next day just cemented how insane most of our teachers were. Mrs. Rogers, who we now knew was the only intelligent and normal teacher, went into a lecture about different elements of science and such. Mr. Stein, the math teacher, started writing complex equations on the board and told us to memorize them, while Miss Lutt just basically sucked face with her boyfriend the entire class. Mr. Slackjaw was definitely the craziest, if that’s possible. He said that he would be teaching American History, then instead launched into a lecture about Norse history. When I asked how it pertained to America, he told me to put a sock in it.

I was practically dreading swim class by the time the rest of our classes were over. We had enough time to go back to our dorm rooms and grab the right stuff before forcing our feet to make our way over to the separate building that contained the pool. I was incredibly annoyed when Firkle, Seymour, Pete and I walked into the boy’s locker room and saw all of the worst people already there. Asshole greaser Rider, that guy Bruce, pretty boy Trent, and what I assumed was the weedy little lackey were all in our swim class. Just perfect.

To my dismay, the lockers were all lined against the wall, with no rows of lockers to give even the tiniest bit of privacy. My friends and I picked the farthest corner away from the rest of those assholes, but I still felt completely exposed. I was surprisingly kind of shy when it came to undressing in front of other people, and I was contemplating on waiting for everyone to leave before I started changing. But, then again, this swim teacher sounded exceptionally tough, so I reluctantly tugged off my clothes while trying to not look at anyone.

Pete and Firkle were grumbling under their breaths as they got changed, but for some reason, I didn’t feel like joining them in the angry muttering. The moment the three of us pulled our shirts off, I heard something behind us fall and I turned to see Trent staring at us out of the corner of his eye. He had dropped his hairbrush on the floor with a thud, and wasn’t even attempting to pick it up.

I’ll admit, I kind of hated Trent. He was the pretty boy stereotype, with at least three girls clinging to him at all times, so obviously any goth would hate him. But there was something else I didn’t like about him, I just couldn’t put my finger on it. The fact that he had impeccable abs but wasn’t overly buff certainly didn’t help. And he was wearing a speedo. God, what a douche.

Pete, Firkle and I all wore black swimming trunks, of course. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Pete was wearing a black chain necklace with a pentagram pendant. I felt my face start to heat up. I didn’t know that he had kept it…

Seymour, ever the nerd, was wearing the dorkiest swimsuit that looked like it was pulled straight out of the 1920’s. To be fair, he didn’t look overly excited about this choice of an outfit. It was a full body wet suit and I felt myself grow annoyed just by looking at it.

“Ready?” Firkle asked, once we had shoved our stuff in a locker.

“As I’ll ever be,” Pete sighed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

I kept my eyes aimed at the ground as we walked past all the jocks and assholes and made our way into the main area. When we emerged at the end of one part of the room with the pool, I looked over to the other side to see if the girls had finished changing yet, and I caught my first glimpse of our teacher.

I had vastly overestimated how threatening she was going to be. I had expected another Sgt. Pepper, but instead there was a giant blob sitting in a high chair, and if Seymour hadn’t specifically said “she” the day before, I would have never known if this thing was supposed to be a man or a woman. I was so busy staring at the blob person that I didn’t notice Karen (who was also in our class, thank goodness) and Henrietta enter until they were standing next to me.

“Please don’t tell me that’s the teacher,” Henrietta groaned, making me jump.

“I think it’s supposed to be,” I replied, trying to breathe normally.

Henrietta let out a groan and went over to talk to Pete before class started. I made the mistake of turning to look at them, and I felt my heart stop. Henrietta was wearing a black, lacey two-piece swimsuit that wasn’t too risqué, but still showed off her curves. Pete and Firkle both had their arms folded, looking completely uncomfortable, but I could still make out some of the lean muscles on Pete. I tried not to stare, but I was kind of har-IT was kind of hard!

Suddenly, a whistle blew right in my ear, and I flinched, grabbing my throbbing ear in pain. Somehow, the blob had managed to get off its chair and oozed all the way over to the group of us without anyone noticing it.

“Alright, students, line up by the pool,” the blob snorted. We hastily did as we were told, with Henrietta and Pete on either side of me. I noticed with some annoyance that Trent chose to stand next to Pete, who still angrily had his arms crossed. “I’m Coach Drowns, and I’ll be your swim coach for the rest of your enrollment here.”

“Seriously?” I could hear Karen mutter under her breath.

“I have heard every excuse in the book people have used to get out of swim class,” the blob barked, glaring at us with wide, popping eyes. “So, if you think you can get out of having to swim, you’ve got another thing coming. The only way you’re getting out of my class is if you’re dead. If you’re thinking about skipping, I will hunt you down and drag you here myself.”

I doubted that. Coach Blob looked like it could only inch along at a snail’s pace and get winded after moving about a foot. I couldn’t even tell where its face became the body.

The coach then ordered Trent to demonstrate the different swim techniques we would be forced to learn, which he annoyingly did flawlessly. Then we all had to swim laps over and over until our limbs nearly gave out. Everyone was relieved when the bell finally rang, letting us know that we could get the fuck out of there.

Unfortunately, the awkwardness and embarrassment didn’t end there. The shower room had rows and rows of showers, each with dividers that only came up to about the waist. That was it. That was all the privacy we got. The only tiny good thing in all this, we soon learned, was that the water took no time to heat up.

Once again, my friends and I took the furthest few showers in the corner, away from everyone else, but we still could hear Rider and Bruce’s loud argument over who had the biggest bulge in the front of their speedos, while also listing which of the girls wore the sluttiest bathing suit. I drowned out their voices and instead let the warm water wash over me, staring straight ahead at the wall and trying not to think about anything. I just let my mind go completely blank.

I think I managed it a little too well, because I swear the next time I blinked, someone was snapping their fingers in my face. I blinked several times and looked down to see Pete and Firkle standing in front of me, their hair still damp, but completely dressed with their bags slung over their shoulders and confused looks on their faces. The water flowing over me was bordering on freezing now, and a quick glance around told me that the shower room was now empty apart from the three of us.

“How did you two get changed so quickly?” I asked my friends. They stared at me.

“What are you talking about?” Pete asked. “You’ve just been standing there staring at that wall for over ten minutes now.”

“You wouldn’t even respond when we called your name,” Firkle added, cocking his head. I refused to look either of them in the eye and I hoped that they wouldn’t notice my face slowly turning red.

“Um, I guess I just zoned out a bit,” I muttered.

“Well, come on,” Firkle said. “Karen and Henrietta are probably waiting for us, and you know Henrietta never likes to wait.”

“I still have to get changed first,” I snapped at him.

“Hurry up then,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “I’m hungry.”

We worked our way back into the locker room, which was also deserted. Beside me, Pete cast a quick glance at me before turning to our shorter friend.

“Firkle, why don’t you and the girls go on ahead and find a table at the cafeteria,” he said suddenly. “Michael and I will catch up shortly.”

Firkle looked at him with wide eyes and opened his mouth as if he were about to argue, then decided against it. He instead gave a shrug and headed towards the door, giving a backward glance at us. I swallowed my nervousness and quickly strode over to my chosen locker and sat on the bench in front of it. Pete sat down next to me, making no sound except for a soft sigh.  


Neither of us spoke for a long moment as I dried myself. I tried not to look bothered as Pete glanced at me, but I don’t think I was successful. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he decided to speak.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s been bugging you?” he asked. I paused in pulling my pants back on.

“What makes you think something’s bugging me?” I replied, not looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Because you’ve been acting weird almost since we got here,” he pointed out. “And not the sort of weirdness of someone hating this place, but the weirdness of someone who’s hiding something.”

“I haven’t been acting weird,” I growled, knowing full well that what I was saying was a flat out lie. Pete didn’t look convinced either, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Really?” he hissed. “You freak out when I ask you what you said, and you just stand around and zone out in the showers, and that’s all supposed to be normal, is it?”

I frowned, but still refused to look at him, and I was silent for long moment. He let out a frustrated sigh and stood up, glaring down at me.

“Well, if you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong, then fine,” he snapped. “Have it your way!” I watched as he marched over to the door. “Tell the others I wasn’t hungry,” he said over his shoulder. And then he slammed the door behind him.

I stared after him, sadly. I wanted to tell him what was wrong, I truly did, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t tell him my biggest secret, the one I’ve been harboring since the fifth grade. Or any of our friends for that matter. They’d never look at me the same way again… wouldn’t they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I think this chapter is long enough, and I’m flat out of ideas for it. So, Weston will be taking over, and hopefully get the next chapter out sooner than me. What’s up with Michael? Wouldn’t you like to know? You’re not going to find out until half way through the story! Make sure to read and review, and again, I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out.


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